


Lust, Spite and Malice, Your Degrees of Sin

by Alcoholic_kangaroo



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23871907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcoholic_kangaroo/pseuds/Alcoholic_kangaroo
Summary: So what if Light did win?
Relationships: L/Near | Nate River, Mikami Teru/Near | Nate River, Near | Nate River/Yagami Light
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	Lust, Spite and Malice, Your Degrees of Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Fun sidenote: Now 4 of my 7 DN fics are named after Placebo lyrics, as well as my screen name.

Commander Rester had been the first one to go down. He had been at Near’s side, gun in his hands but lowered, waiting for the okay from Near to apprehend Kira. Then he had cried out and Near’s head had shot up, his eyes landing immediately on his most loyal and senior agent. When he fell his head landed inches from Near’s foot. Next had been Gevanni, gasping Near’s name as if he could save him, then Lidner. Near does not recall the order the rest of the men had fallen that day except that Touta Matsuda had been the last to hit the floor, his voice full of shock and betrayal as he screamed at his former friend and superior.

Near waited for his turn. Never in his life had he felt any emotion so strongly as that of the fear of his own impending death.

Except it never came.

In the end it had just been the three of them remaining in that overheated warehouse: Nate River, Teru Mikami, and Light Yagami. Near, X-Kira, and Kira.

“Why haven’t you killed me?” Near had demanded to know, barely containing the rage from showing on his face. “Are you keeping me alive just to gloat? What a disgusting creature you are.”

“You should be thanking me for allowing you to live,” Light had laughed and it had come out sounding truly unraveled, the laugh of a madman. “You will be allowed to see the rise of the new world order, from the safety of some place secure and well-protected. Maybe someday I will even allow you to see the sunlight once more.”

As of yet, that time has not come.

Near is not exactly sure where he is being kept. Somewhere with stone walls and no windows. It could be a factory or another warehouse. More likely it is a basement. Near had not even resisted when they had give him the shot, knowing he was no competition for two older, larger men than himself. He has passed out immediately and when he had awoke he had been in this room with nothing but a scrap of a blanket to sleep on and a bucket to piss and shit in.

It has gotten better, gradually. Light rewards him for good behavior.

And punishes him for bad behavior.

There is a large bed now but the shackles at the head and foot are permanently attached to it. Light uses them about half the time when he fucks him though they seem pointless to Near. He never struggles. There is no point in struggling.

Mikami only uses the wrist ones. And not nearly as often.

When he first added them, he would leave Near chained for hours. Until his arms burned and his knees locked up from the pressure. Only releasing him when he was close to pissing himself because Light did not like the smell of piss in his dungeon.

There is a small bathroom now. Mikami had put in the toilet and bathtub himself, leaving Near chained up the entire time so he could not come up from behind him and try to attack him. There are no walls around it but a tall paper screen cuts it off from the rest of the room, giving anybody using it, mostly Near but sometimes Light or Mikami, some semblance of privacy. The water in the tub is never any hotter than lukewarm and the toilet clogs too easily for Near’s liking but they’re preferable over the bucket and spongebaths that he had originally been provided.

The minifridge has a small microwave on top of it and he has to eat the bland meals Mikami prepares ahead of time for him on the couch or the bed because he has no table or chairs and the floor is never clean enough to eat off of. But at least there is always food available, except when Light is displeased and then there isn’t anything in the fridge for days at a time.

There are no electronics. No television. No radio. No computer. Even the lights overhead are set on a timer and once the room goes black Near has nothing to do besides lay in bed and try to sleep. But Mikami brings him books and toys to keep him busy. Not expensive toys. Cards, Dominoes. Dice.

He also brings him those horrid magazines. The ones that gush over how Kira has changed the world and how Earth has reached a new Golden Era.

Near reads them because they are his only link to the outside world. He wonders how much they leave out. How many people have died at the hands of Kira?

According to the marks on the wall beneath Near’s bed, it has been 646 days since he became Light’s captive.

It feels more like 646 years.

He wonders if Light will ever let him leave this room. He suspects that Light will kill him, eventually, once he grows bored with him. But maybe if he thinks he has truly broken him, if he thinks Near has come to worship him as the rest of the world worships him, then Light would allow him some freedom. Not to go out into the world on his own, no, never that, but maybe outside in the fresh air now and then.

He is Light’s captive. His slave. His pet. His sex toy.

The sex part was unexpected. It was not even immediate. At first Light had harmed him with more conventional means. Slapping him across the face. Beating him with blunt objects that left bruises but no broken bones. Whips that left his back bloody. Burning him with heated metal – the word KIRA is branded into the flesh directly below Near’s navel.

Then one day, Light revealed the truth to him.

“Tell me Nate, did L ever tell you about how close me and him got to be while working on the Kira case together?”

Near had just scowled. He hated when Light taunted him about killing L more than just about anything. Even the branding had left him with less malice than these tauntings.

“We were in each other’s company twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, for over two months. Did he ever tell you that?”

Near continued to glare at Light. He had been tied to a foldable metal chair in the direct center of the room, his arms behind his back. Thankful for that because Light could not see the tight fists as he struggled with the unfulfillable urge to kill this man before him.

“Answer me, Nate.”

His pseudonym had been the first thing to go. Light said Near was the name of a detective but he was no longer a detective. Nate was the name of a slave.

“Nate, if you do not answer me then I will be forced to pour boiling water onto your feet again.”

“Yes,” Near spit out, his voice full of so much poison he had hoped Light would choke on their fumes in the air and fall over dead right in front of him. “Yes, he told me about that experiment with the handcuffs.”

“So you know we shared a bed?” Light had prodded deeper, the word needlessly suggestive. He paced back and forth before Near.

“I know you slept beside each other,” Near had replied. “Though knowing L, he probably rarely ever slept.”

“You’re correct,” Light had agreed, smirking, and Near knew he had walked right into his little trap. “He would stay up all night working on his laptop. Or watching stupid cat videos online. Sometimes he would instant message with his lover online. Did you know he had a lover?”

Nate did not reply. He hoped Light could feel the absolute disdain in his eyes.

“Answer me, Nate,” Light insisted, his voice sing-song, light with mirth. He turned his chin slightly to the left, towards the electric teapot he had brought down for the occasion. It was a quick and easy way to bring immense pain.

“Yes,” Near replied, finally. Sometimes he was more defiant. That day, he hadn’t eaten in three days and his back was still aching from his last beating. The blood had dried in streaks along his back, gluing his skin to the metal chair. “I was aware he had a lover.”

“He never knew I knew,” Light continued. He stopped pacing and crossed his arms across his chest. “But I would watch him when he was unaware that I was awake. He would write filthy things to his lover. Absolutely disgusting things. You should have seen them. He promised to suck his lover’s cock and swallow everything he gave him and compared the taste of his lover’s asshole to strawberry shortcake. Did you realize L was gay?”

“I knew L was attracted to males,” Near conceded. “He may have been bisexual, I never asked him. It was none of my business.”

“True,” Light replies jovially. He took a step towards Near then, forcing Near to tilt his head back further to look up at him. A spike of pain shot down his spine, the muscles sore from spending so many hours in a singular position. “One night, he told his lover he wanted to bite his hip. He was a very strange man, don’t you agree? Specifically, he told him he wanted to, and I quote, ‘sink my teeth into the soft skin right below your diamond-shaped birthmark.’”

Near had gritted his teeth so hard he was surprised they didn’t shatter beneath the pressure. His jaw ached for days afterwards.

“Tell me, Nate,” Light mocked, leaning over Near so his nose almost brushed his own. He laid three fingers across the pale beige birthmark on Near’s waist. “Just how young did L like his kids? Was he fucking all of the children at the orphanage or just the boys?”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m not the pedophile here,” Light laughed, pulling away. He slapped Near’s face then but it had been a soft slap; it barely even stung. “You can’t believe how amused I was when I first saw you shirtless. This entire time, the great and mighty L, was a kiddy diddler. Now I don’t even feel guilty about killing him.”

“Did you feel guilty about killing him before?” Near had demanded to know.

“No,” Light confessed. “He was still not a good person. Good people do not torture others to get information out of them, though I guess you wouldn’t understand that either. Tell me, Nate, are you a pedophile too?”

“He wasn’t a pedophile,” Near had got out before he realized he had even spoken. “Our relationship had nothing to do with age. He loved me despite my age, not because of it.”

“Loved?” Light mocked. “You think he loved you? L? I doubt he was capable of loving anyone but himself.”

“Think you’re self-projecting there, Kira.”

The next slap had been much more painful than the first one. But not as painful as what was yet to come. He had chained Near to the bed that day. It was not the first time he had down so but it was the first time he did it facedown. And the first time he had forced Near to undress beforehand.

“I took everything from him,” Light had laughed and it had been that same insane laugh as that day in the warehouse. “I took his life. I took his name. And now I have taken his lover.”

Near does not know why he did it that way the first night. Maybe he didn’t want Near to look at him in case he was unable to get hard. Maybe he was unsure of how else to fuck another man except from behind. Maybe he was being considerate of the bloody streaks down Near’s back.

The last one was doubtful. If he had cared about Near’s pain he would have used more than his spit as lubricant. And the wounds had re-opened as Light’s hands scrambled to grip onto him as he worked out the mechanics of fucking another male flat against a mattress. By the time he had finished there had been so much blood that Near was unsure what stains were from his back and what stains were from his rectum. But he never once gave Light the satisfaction of screaming or crying. He lay where he was, breathing heavily from his nose, and waited for it to be over as Light moaned and grunted on top of him.

He would have thought that would have been enough. Humiliating him. Raping him. Doubly symbolic, not showing only that he had power over Near but over L with that act. Like a wild animal coming in after a female has been bred and filling her with his own ejaculate. It was a metaphorical finger to L. Look at what I did, I took your mate and filled him with my seed. That should have been the end of it. Except the next day he came back and did it again. And the next day. Then one day it was Mikami, the cowering lapdog, speaking in awe as he described God’s generosity in sharing his servant with him.

Near didn’t get it. Were they both gay? Who enjoys fucking other men if they’re not gay? Even rape must lose some of its charm after the fortieth time. And what of Misa Amane? Is she aware of what Light gets up to in his spare time? Even as an act of violence Near doubts she would be pleased about the idea of Light copulating with another person. Perhaps she is dead. Perhaps Kira killed her.

Light brought him the magazine announcing L’s death personally. Usually he allowed Mikami to carry out those sort of menial tasks, but he wished to brag about it directly.

 _L DEAD_ , the headline ran in gaudy fuschia. “ _He was a child molester the whole time,” says Kira._

Even his legacy has been destroyed.

“At least he wasn’t a rapist,” Near challenged, knowing he was risking punishment with those words but Light had been too light-hearted that day to let the accusations get to him.

“Statutory rape is still rape,” he just replied, shrugging. “And it isn’t rape when the other party enjoys it. Let me see how many times I can make you orgasm today.”

Rape isn’t rape if both people cum. What an absurd and offensive idea. Is this what the Golden Age of Kira is like? Can rapists run free through the streets as long as the women orgasm after being molested? And how could Light ever understand what had been between him and L. Yes, he had been young but it had never been about age. After all, it had been Near who had approached L on his ninth birthday, confessing his love to him and asking if his feelings had been returned. L had assured him they were but still had refused to touch Near at all until his tenth birthday, and even then the kisses had been chaste. At eleven the kisses had become less chaste and then had been the progressively heavier petting. At twelve they had progressed to using their hands and mouths on each other. And at thirteen…

Cybersex. Near thinks that is what it would be referred to as. They were supposed to take it further the next time L visited, his promise to Near had been once he was a teenager he would make love to him for real. Near entered his teenage years while L was out of the country and three months later his mentor and lover were dead.

Light had taken Near’s anal virginity. Light was the first person he ever had intercourse with. His first kiss, his first blow job, those belonged to L, but the deepest, most personal expression of love possible between two men?

He never let Light know he was his first in that way. He never shared that L was waiting for him to become more emotionally and physically mature before taking that final step. It was best that Light think he was second.

He left the magazine for Near to read. It was full of lies. Not exaggerations but outright lies and Near seethed as he read them, wondering if Light told the publishers this information or if they just made it up out of nowhere.

L visited child brothels.

L made child pornography.

L kept a number of child sex slaves.

L was impotent with adults and suffered anxiety over the size of his penis.

Garbage. All of it garbage.

L was never abusive. L would never have kept a slave, the sexual variety or otherwise. L had taken down child pornographers and brothels, he would never had condoned them. Even his relationship with Near had laid heavily on his mind as he would often share his doubts about the health of their relationship aloud to Near.

“You are just a child, I never should have confessed my feelings for you. At least not so earily.”

“What does it matter if you had told me when I was nine or nineteen? It doesn’t change anything.”

“The fact you would think that way just proves even further how young your mind really is, little one.”

But L had been so sweet and gentle with him. He had never forced Near to do anything Near did not want to do. Even when they had finally brought dicks into it they still used to spend hours together just kissing and holding each other without urgent need for anything further.

He would always be on top. Near asked it of him. He liked feeling L’s weight on top of him, the comforting cocoon of his arms around him. When they were both left breathless from a barrage of kisses that never seemed to end, L would look down at him, his lips swollen and glistening, and there had been a warmth there that belonged to Near and Near alone. Nobody ever saw that human side of L beside him. Nobody ever saw that love in those dark pupils.

Nothing like these ones.

Near has heard the stories of how many girls have fallen into Light’s chocolate brown eyes before. He has heard about how they flash with wit or soften with laughter so that he resembled a harmless puppy dog. But those foolish girls must have never seen him like this before. His eyes are not chocolate brown. They are sienna. Too much red for chocolate. Maybe they had been chocolate brown once before, before the fires of Hell itself had burned through his soul.

There are no cuffs today. First Light takes him face to face, his legs pushed up so that Near’s entire body is all but bent in two. It doesn’t hurt him, Near has always been very flexible, but it is a humiliating position. He, like the rest of the world, is putty in Light Yagami’s hands. His hands which in most ways are the hands of a pampered upper class kid except for the writer callous on his right hand.

Near knows what he has been writing and feeling it pressed against the outside of his ankle as he holds Near’s legs in place is almost more sickening than the squelching noise of his cock thrusting into Near’s gaping asshole. Gaping, not because Light is a considerate lover that readies him thoroughly, but because the older man has been fucking him for nearly an hour, edging and pulling back, allowing them both to approach dangerously close to the point of orgasm but denying either of them the relief of release.

He hates this. He hates how hard his own dick is, trapped between his thighs and his branded stomach. He hates that Light has this much stamina. He hates that long after Light should have cum he turns him over instead. He hates the way Light pushes his face into the mattress with a hand against the back of his head and how it makes him feel as if he is suffocating. He hates the way he rests his forehead between Near’s shoulder blades when he has to take a break, not because he is tired but because Near had felt his twitching penis in him signaling he had come close to orgasm. He hates the feel of his sweat against his skin.

His asshole feels sore, overused, and it throbs around Light’s engorged dick in a way he’s sure feels good for him but not to Near; it feels like he’s been trying to defecate for the last hour and it just won’t come out. The forced pressure on his prostate does not change this feeling, just adds a second, more confusing one into the mix. He’s so hard it hurts but Light won’t release the cockring encircling his erection until he orgasms first. Light always orgasms first.

Worse still is Mikami. Light commanded he accompany him today and he’s been sitting over there watching. He never touches himself during these performances. He sits as straight-backed and proper as if he were in a church and if Light is his God maybe this is his church. This fucked up staged example of sexual abuse that just keeps going and going. Why won’t he just finish? Near tries to recall if he did something to upset him but his mind keeps wandering, distracted by how overly sensitive his body is from this ongoing torture.

He wants so desparately to try to buck him off. He wants him off him, now. He wants to tell him to stop. What is he trying to prove?

Finally, finally, it comes to an end. Light tries to stop it for the billionth time. He stops suddenly but it is too late and his arms tighten around Near’s waist and he bites his shoulder violently, as if it were his fault that his ejaculate is shooting inside of Near’s throbbing asshole and not Light’s own. And as usual, Near does not react. He just waits. Waits for Light to reach down and remove the cockring so he can cum and this can all be done.

He doesn’t. He stays there, on top of Near, panting into his hair for a minute, two minutes, until his cock softens and falls out of him. Then he whispers something into Near’s ear. Something that speaks of Near’s own childhood growing up in Britain, of happy memories and sad ones and unbearable ones.

“Remember, remember, the fifth of November.”

Light chuckles and pinches at the skin on Near’s waist. He makes a petty remark about him gaining weight.

Then his pressure is gone and Near collapses onto the bed, his erection still throbbing and uncomfortable and poking into the blankets. He watches Light take the towel from Mikami and reach down to wipe off his lube-wet genitals.

Someday, Near will kill this man.

“Alright, Mikami, it’s your turn."

**Author's Note:**

> Social distancing? Lol that's the life of a pedo in fandom already. At least it forces me to be productive instead of interacting with people?


End file.
